Election campaigns are rarely characterised by thoughtful and reasoned debate.

If there is usually more heat than light generated by what we often describe 鈥 with careless indifference to the sensitivities of veterans and those of a non-military persuasion 鈥 as the 鈥渁ir war鈥 of media debate, there is not a huge amount of scope for political philosophy in the 鈥済round war鈥 on doorsteps either.

Much as I enjoy canvassing 鈥 really, even after 25 years of door knocking 鈥 it is inevitably frustrating to have to limit important conversations to a few moments, framed always by the scepticism that inevitably accompanies a debate that takes place during the hunt for votes.

Given that such exchanges tend, by definition, to take place with those waiting to be convinced by the candidate 鈥 or, to be more accurate and less generous, waiting to give the candidate a verbal mugging 鈥 there is a rather formulaic feel to them. It is, in fact, sometimes hard to avoid the familiar pantomime routines:

鈥淵ou never see a policeman any more.鈥

鈥淏ut there are record levels of police officers.鈥

鈥淥h no, there aren鈥檛.鈥

鈥淥h yes, there are,鈥 and so on.

We suffer, I fear, from the fact that few, if any, journalists live in social housing, or on estates, or claim housing benefit. Mortgage rates aren鈥檛 the whole story

I look forward to the moment my captive audience, spying a policeman, shouts: 鈥淗e鈥檚 behind you!鈥 There is a bottle of champagne on offer for the most sincere rendition, if that does not constitute 鈥渢reating鈥.

A version of the old 鈥渨hat have the Romans ever done for us?鈥 chestnut gets an airing, too. 鈥淲hat has the government ever done for me?鈥 it begins, followed by the candidate鈥檚 response, a thoughtful pause and then a variant of: 鈥淵es, but apart from 拢40 a week added to pension credit for the poorest pensioners; the 拢200 winter fuel allowance; the new 拢200 payment for those paying council tax; and a new kitchen under the decent homes initiative, what has the government ever done for me?鈥

I haven鈥檛 yet had the confidence to employ the 鈥淢arshall-Andrews鈥, however. Named in honour of Bob Marshall-Andrews, the combative QC who has represented Medway, Kent, for the past eight years, this technique allegedly involves him telling a member of the public who has rejected his advances 鈥 after delivering colourfully expressed views on asylum seekers 鈥 that his vote is not wanted. Indeed, says Marshall-Andrews, the man is expressly forbidden from voting for him. The indignant voter considers this for a short while before announcing that if he wants to support Marshall-Andrews, that is a matter for him and he is not going to let a politician tell him what to do. Way to go, Bob.

Housing does not get much of a look in at 鈥渁ir war鈥 level, despite my deeply ingrained view that it should sit alongside health and education as central to any government鈥檚 programme to improve our health, wealth and happiness. We suffer, I fear, from the fact that few, if any, journalists live in social housing, or on estates, or claim housing benefit. Hence housing is almost invariably discussed in terms of mortgages, and vitally important though mortgage rates are, they aren鈥檛 the whole story.

But although housing does not exactly dominate the headlines, and although the emails seeking my position focus more on Iraq and fossil fuel consumption, the cases raised on the doorstep more than compensate. Affordable homeownership; overcrowding and the desperate need to increase the supply of social housing; rents and work incentives; more intensive case management to resolve antisocial behaviour problems, especially those where mental health issues are involved; damp and disrepair ignored by most poor registered social landlords 鈥 these are the concerns behind the curtains.

Who needs to sit in a conference hall or round a seminar table when an hour knocking on doors at election time can show anyone what needs to be done, for free?